


2 Broke Sons of Bitches

by Fjorgyn



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: 2 Broke Girls Setting, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Because why not have everyone be almost happy for once, F/M, Gen, Modern Era, or goes missing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fjorgyn/pseuds/Fjorgyn
Summary: At first, Bucky doesn't expect much from the new busboy, Howard, who has reluctantly joined the food service industry after a string of bad luck landed him in protective services and as broke as a joke. The two and their co-workers manage to strike up unlikely friendships in the greasy, oddly decorated diner that brings them an income.In other words, a 2 Broke Girls AU for First Avenger/Agent Carter that no one knew they needed.





	1. The one with the ugly, yellow booth

It was just a typical Wednesday night in a small Brooklyn diner. The dinner crowd was steady, mostly couples or friends that were fresh out of work or classes looking for an easy meal before heading home for the night along the bridge from Manhattan. Though many of the ugly, yellow booths were filled, many of the tables had long gotten their food and were simply catching up on the day’s events with one and other.

“Table twelve, order up!” Bucky called as he placed the ordered plates in the window before hurrying back to the fryer to raise the fried before salting them. Even though it wasn’t busy out there, what orders were coming in were either time consuming or picked apart so much that he had extra steps. He paused his ministrations to look out the window to noticed the food was still there moments later and the spunky waitress was nowhere to be seen. “While it’s hot, Angie!”

“Calm your jets, Jimmy,” sighed Angie as she reached for the plates with a bothered look. She turned quickly and made her way to the table, flashing a smile before placing the food before the couple.

Shaking his head, Bucky went back to finishing up the order he had been working on. Again, he set the plate up on the window before moving to finish up the next plate to finish off the order.

“Barnes,” Peggy called out as she pushed into the kitchen, an annoyed look already set in as she held tightly on to a ticket.

“Yeah?” He turned to face her, the plate of plain pasta still in hand.

“These… I’m sorry, just take the bloody thing,” she said as she handed him her ticket into his free hand before shoving the pad and pen back into red apron.

Bucky took the ticket and raised a brow, “Jesus, again?” Every week these people came in and it was always, _always_ , the same thing. Sure, yeah, they already had the chili made, but it was always just a continuous pain in the ass to remove every single macaroni noodle from it for two servings. He was almost tempted to start making a separate container for these people every week before deciding it wasn’t worth it.

All Peggy could do was nod and rub her brow, her eyes closing from the headache already evidently forming from the picky regulars. You always expect them to come in at the regular time on their regular day, but the sight of them is usually a let down and almost makes you groan aloud when they walk through the doors. It’s not nice, he’ll admit it, but he doesn’t get how some people are so finicky about _chili_. You just make it with some beans and some type of noodle before having it with some Saltine crackers.

“And here I thought tonight was gonna be simple,” he shook his head, placing the ticket on the line behind the two orders it followed.

There was a pause before the waitress shifted most of her weight to one side. The almost apprehensive look didn’t fit her, Peggy was always boldly to the point and headstrong. Bucky could tell what this was going to be about:  “So… have you heard anything?”

Bucky placed the finished pasta in the window and went grab the bowls, “Yeah.” He placed them on the counter before he retrieved two plates, “Said he’d be back by Christmas.”

“Christmas?” She asked, a sad look already washing over her face, “That’s nearly two months from now!”

“‘S the job, Carter.”

“I know,” she sighed and smoothed the hair over the top of her head. A small frown remaining on her lips as she shook her head slightly, “It’s just… It’s just that I miss him is all.”

Bucky smiled lightly, his eyes meeting hers, “Don’t I know. But hey, next time he calls, I’ll let you talk to him, alright?”

Peggy almost seemed to perk at the suggestion, “Yes.”

He nodded before she pushed out of the kitchen, leaving him alone to separate the chili. He silently thanked whatever luck he still had that Angie hadn’t slinked back yet to slap another order into the window with her little laugh she always did.

He’d get her to stop one of these days, it was just a matter of time.

Bucky couldn’t help but let an evil smirk spread across his lips with the mere thought as he moved one bowl over and dumped chili into the next one as the back door opened and the owner of the _fine establishment_ walked in.

“Oh, Barnes, there you are,” Jarvis said, looking overdressed as usual. It was always weird to see Jarvis in the diner. He was always so cleanly put together compared to the decor of the restaurant. Though, after talking to Jarvis a bit and finding out more about him, Bucky could only assume that the one that really designed the diner was Ana, his wife.

“Where I always am, boss.”

The Englishman simply nodded, looking back before waving another man in to the kitchen, “Barnes, this is Howard. Howard, James Barnes.” He motioned between the two men.

Bucky raised a brow before nodding to the man before him.

“Anyways, Barnes I need you to train Howard here since you’re the only one that used to be a busboy.”

“Train?” He scoffed, “Listen here, Earl Grey, I know you’re not blind, but I’m--”

Jarvis was already handing him a wad of cash with a tested look.

“Busboy, huh?” Bucky said as he pocketed the money, “Pretty easy job.” He motioned to the chili, “No macaroni, boss.”

The man grimaced before nodding and moved to replace the cook. Already moving to start rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, white button-up.

Stepping past him, he moved to the new guy. He, oddly, looked familiar to Bucky, but he had to admit  that happened from time to time after coming home. “So pretty much, you clean off tables. You put the plates in a bus tub, like so,” he motioned to the brown tub that had one too many burn marks and most likely wouldn’t last another six months. “And Curt, over there,” he motioned to the dishwasher, “will clean them.”

Howard nodded, “Got it, get the plates, put ‘em here, and take it to Curt.”

Bucky nodded before turning to the bulky man in the dishtank, “How ya doin’, Curt?”

Curt wasn’t much of a talker and had been there since day one. The small grunt and slight wave he responded with wasn’t a surprise to Bucky.

Bucky was also pretty certain that, at one time, Curt had been in prison. From the tattoos that lined his arms, neck, and face, it was pretty clear that he at least had some history, but that just added to the presence he gave off and why Jarvis let him to take lunch at the counter. He’d scare off any one that would want to rob them and if anyone even tried, Curt wouldn’t stand for it.

Though he wasn’t much for conversation or for a big story on his past, he played some decent music throughout the shift. And that was what really mattered.

“Alright, let’s see the job in action, alright? I know we have some dirty tables out there,” Bucky said, motioning to the dining room. “Phillips has the cleaning stuff and rags out there to wipe the tables down with.”

Howard moved to follow Bucky as they made their way out of the kitchen, Peggy and Angie stood at the counter, watching as they approached. Bucky could already see Angie sizing Howard up and a slight glint already showing in her eye.

“Oh, Howard, this is Peggy and Angie,” he motioned to the women. “This is our new busboy.”

“Nice to meet you, Howard,” Angie said with a smile. “Hey, you look kinda familiar, you from around Queens?”

The man in questions smiled, “Richford, actually. Guess I’ve got one of those faces, right?”

“Guess so,” she said with a hint of suspicion. She tilted her head slight before she asked: “What’d you say your name was again?”

“Howard Star--Stern. Howard Stern.”

Angie snorted as soon as she heard the name, she raised a brow and asked, “You serious?”

He nodded solemnly, a small smirk already forming, “Sadly.”

“Geez,” Angie laughed before she shook her head, “your parents must have hated you!”

“They did,” he said with another nod.

“Howard _Stern_ , oh _Jesus_ ,” she double over, “Jim, he almost has _you_ beat!”

Bucky cocked his head with an incredulous look, “No one has _me_ beat, Angie.”

“You’re right,” Peggy said with a nod. Her red lips shifting to a smirk, “No one can beat a name quite like yours, _James Buchanan Barnes_.”

Howard and Angie began laughing once Peggy annunciated his name. Bucky just smiled, taking every bit of it. It was unique, he knew, and he knew his nickname was even worse. He could only blame his sister Becca for that one.

“Jimmy, that name sounds like a dead president or somethin’.”

“What can I say,” the cook shrugged, “I’m a Hoosier.”

After a moment, everyone was able to compose themselves after the good laugh, Peggy readied herself before smiling. “It was nice meeting you, Howard,” she said before heading off to do her table touches with Angie following behind her to check her own section.

Howard looked to Bucky, “Seems like a good bunch here, Jarvis really didn’t say much about anyone other than ‘you’ll be this and don’t get into trouble’ like always.”

Bucky snorted, “What a guy.”

The two split up to gather plates and cups from dirty tables before meeting again beside the all-seeing Chester Phillips, who was already red in the face from some jerk that dined-and-dashed.

“Who let you out of the kitchen, Barnes?”

“Nice to see you too, Philips,” Bucky said as he rested again the counter of the register desk, “who’d they stiff this time?”

“Peggy,” he let out a breath to try to cool off. “These damn kids these days, don’t know anything about respect and hard work.” He looked to Howard, “Boy, when I was your age, I was bayonetting the Viet Cong in the middle of a god damn monsoon.”

Howard almost looked enamored with him, “Well I’ll be.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” the cook warned, “he has a real short fuse.” He turned to the cashier, “Phillips, this is Howard. He’s going to be cleaning tables for you now.”

Phillips looked at Howard and snorted, “About time Jarvis hired someone to do that again, but I’m not sure if you’re cut out for that kind of work, kid.”

“How’s that?” Howard asked with a slight raise in his brow.

“You look like one of those guys about to grow a manbun or whatever it is. Keep it clean, kid and we’ll be fine.”

Bucky could only watch the two men before shaking his head, “Alright, alright, let’s get to cleaning the tables off. I don’t think Jarvis can take that kitchen too long. He’s not making anything for his wife.”

Both Phillips and Howard chuckled at that before agreeing to start working again.

When all was said and done, Bucky couldn’t help but give Howard a pat on the back after watching him finish the job, “You’re gonna do fine here, pal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this series was literally based on two marvel-crazed college freshmen during midterms in 2015.
> 
> There are more ideas where this came from and feel free to suggest any you'd like to see. I'll try to come up with a way to make a "suggestion box" or something.
> 
> By the way, this may show my age a bit if no one gets this, but Howard Stern is a radio show host that, in the best way I can word it, is known for being kind of an ass.


	2. The one with the sub shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After working for at the diner for about a month, Howard has been acting strange... and seriously smelled like bread. So of course Bucky had to investigate it.

“Why do you smell like bread?”

Howard looked up to Bucky with a confused looked, “What are you talking about?”

It had been about a month since Howard had started at the diner and he had slowly grow more and more alcimated to his coworkers. The last week, however, he seemed to be a little on edge… and smell like baked bread.

“You smell like a sub,” the cook reiterated, “Like you literally walked in here holding the sandwich.”

Howard shrugged slightly, “I don’t know, Buck, maybe your head’s messing with you?”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little, “maybe.” Shaking his head. He _knew_ that Howard knew! This wasn’t like a single occurrence or was it even the heavenly moment where could Howard would admit that he just recently discovered a great sub shop and he was eating it daily. This wasn’t afterbreath by any means, he was _engulfed_ in the scent of bread. Something was up and now he was just too curious not to investigate. The bait was there; it was dangling right in front of his face.

So he went to the best investigator he knew.

“I’m not helping you follow Howard.” Peggy deadpanned as she stole crackers from the bulk box under the counter.

“Come on, Peg, you know that you love the a good mystery to solve.” Bucky said as he followed her further away from the window. “You’re a criminal justice major anyways, help me find something!”

She looked at him like he was nuts, “To what, Barnes? There’s no mystery to solve!”

“There’s plenty mystery to solve there, Peggy! Believe me, I know you want to know why he smells like bread just like I do.”

Peggy considered him for a second before sighing, “you are such a child.”

He chuckled, “Awe, Peg, is that you saying you’ll do it?” He smiled as sweetly as he could muster only causing her to laugh at the sight of him.

After taking a bite of her stolen cracker, she agreed to help him. They quickly devised a plan to follow him after work to see where ever he went and why he smelled the way he did. They only parted ways when Howard returned from lunch and began asking Curt what was on that evening’s playlist.

Eleven o’clock was there before they knew it and they were all calling it a night at the diner. Howard left shortly after helping Curt and Bucky clean up the kitchen and dishtank and was out of there with a short “see you tomorrow.”

Peggy was waiting outside when Bucky exited the building and locked the door.

“He went that way,” she motioned down the street. “He’s not to far ahead of us.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded. “Let’s get going.”

They began a quick pace in the direction that Howard and started and were quick to find him around a corner a couple blocks down. They watched him for a moment, almost amused at the fact that he ducked into the opening of an alley and began to try to lay low for a while as the street cleared.

“Is that a Subway?” Bucky asked, looking at Peggy.

She nodded, almost looking afraid of what was about to happen.

Howard pulled out what looked to be a lockpick and kneeled before the door.

“Oh my god,” Peggy said as she watched him, her eyes wide.

The door came open and an alarm sounded. Howard entered the building and soon the alarm went silent.

“Oh my god!” Peggy exclaimed, hitting Bucky on the arm. “He just broke into Subway!”

“Yeah,” he said as he started to walk to the shop.

“Barnes!” She called, “We need to call the police, not go in there! We could be arrested!”

“Peggy, he killed the alarm, ain’t no cops comin’ unless we call them.”

She let out a groan, “I hate you, James Barnes.”

“No you don’t,” he said, looking in to the shop to see a shadow on a bench of a booth. He almost felt bad for the poor bastard, those wooden booths sucked.

Bucky opened the door to the shop, leading to a loud thud and a “Jesus Christ” in a hushed hiss.

“Howard, why are you sleeping in a Subway?” Bucky asked in an exasperated tone.

“Bucky?”

“And Peggy,” Bucky said in a cheery tone and was quickly met with a stern glare from the mentioned woman.

“How’d you know I went in here?” Howard asked as he crawled out from under the table. He looked so confused with his hand on his head from

“Dude, we followed you,” the cook said with his brows peeked, “you have smelled like bread and have been on edge all week. We were--”

“James was.” Peggy intercepted.

“ _We were_ worried about you, man.” Bucky reiterated and gave Peggy a pointed look. “Look, Howard, why are you here? Do you not have a place to go?”

Howard let out a sigh and sat down on the bench, “Yeah.” He looked up to Bucky and Peggy, “So one, my name is Howard Stark, not Howard Stern. I’m in protective services since some asshole I work with decided he’d put a hit on me. The detective’s plan for a place for me to stay fell through and I couldn’t stay at the station anymore.”

“Wait, Howard _Stark_?” Peggy asked, looking shocked.

“In the flesh,” the man said with a flash of a smirk.

“You’re a weapons manufacturer.” She said, looking to Bucky, “He supplied the US Army.”

Bucky shrugged, “Peggy, I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast half the time, how do you expect to remember who made my gun when I was ass deep in sand?”

Peggy rolled her eyes with a hard sigh, “Howard, why didn’t you ask Jarvis or even Barnes if you could stay with them?”

“Detective said to keep things hush hush, but I think she forgot that they froze my accounts because of the investigation. I’ve got nowhere to go aside from the streets, especially since I’m not sleeping in the shelters.”

“That sucks, Howard,” Bucky said. He shifted a bit, looking to Peggy.

Her look was cool, as usual, but he could see the fine lines of sympathy that he expected. He knew her place was full with Angie and whatever guy she was playing house with now, but she’d take him in within a heartbeat.

So, it fell to him. Steve’s room was off limits, he didn’t go in there himself unless it was to toss mail on the bed and mope a bit about his partner in crime being gone. But his couch was a good start for anyone going through a hard time. “Howard, get your crap,” he looked back to the multi-billionaire, “you can crash at my place until you can get back on your feet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that just happened.
> 
> There are more ideas where this came from and feel free to suggest any you'd like to see.


	3. The one with the angel of death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Howard struggles with his current dilemma and his uncertain future, Bucky is often finding himself stuck in the sands of his past.

_ “Come on, Buck, what’s the hold up?” _

_ Bucky turned quickly at the sound of the voice, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of best friend. “Steve,” he said quietly and he held back the urge to reach out and touch him. Hell, he had to restrain himself from taking the big idiot into his arms and hug him. Steve stood there with his helmet in his hands in full uniform and his boots were laced as tight as ever. His hair had the same gleam it always did and the fire was still bright in his eyes. _

_ Steve smiled a bit but raised a brow, “What’s the matter? You look like you just saw a ghost.” _

_ “Seems like it,” Bucky said and felt almost out of breath. He looked past the other man to see the opening to the tent they had used for short meetings while on the move and the unforgiving sand blowing past the opening. Captain Rogers was in command of their little battalion and Bucky could almost hear the others guys outside along with the dull hum of an incoming chopper. _

_ Bucky knew what was coming; he always did. He could feel the phantom pain almost as if he was enduring it all over again and he wasn’t even there yet. He could only watch as the dry breeze swept more sand across the expanse and shake in his boots, praying that he could somehow wake up. _

_ “Hey,” Steve said as he placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked down a bit to find Bucky’s eyes, “what’s going on?” He could hear the concern in the captain’s voice and he could feel the building pressure on his shoulder. _

_ Finally, Bucky met his eyes, “I got a bad feeling about this, Stevie.” _

_ The captain could only offer him a sympathetic look. “I know, Buck,” he said softly, “me too.” _

_ But the mission pushed on as Bucky picked up his own helmet and pack before they rushed out of the tent. The sight of them all; Dum Dum, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier.... He couldn’t hear them as they smiled and greeted he and Steve. He stood there and watched as Steve looked to each of them and began the mission. His lips and eyes kept moving but Bucky could only manage to hear his own heartbeat and the shallow breaths he could only manage. _

_ Steve them looked to Bucky, “You remain in the chopper and take out who you can from above.” _

_ He nodded but the familiar electric charge ran down his spine. _

_ The scene skipped before him as they boarded the chopper and Bucky began loading his sniper rifle. He looked to the men around him as they told jokes and prodded one and other. Soon, they were all gone but him and the pilot. _

_ He took position and moved to begin overlooking the expanse below when there was a sudden jerk to the chopper. The sniper looked forward as he heard the pilot release a shout and could see the gleam of the incoming piece of metal right before the impact slammed right through the windshield and lodged itself into where the pilot’s head was. _

_ “Shit!” He screamed, trying to hold on the side of the chopper and his rifle. Looking back, the body was slumped over the steering column, the arm locking it in a hard right. Slowly, Bucky took a deep breath as he tried to take a step back, moving towards the body in hopes of stabilizing the chopper. _

_ The metal screamed with new impact that sent Bucky flying out the opening and the sand was unforgiving as he met it with a loud grunt. He allowed himself a single moment to compose himself and to realize that he was still alive. He could feel his body aching from the impact and knew that his arm was shot. He only glanced up to see the angle it had taken from the fall. _

_ Ringing had filled his ears along with the dull sound of his heart as he tried to force himself up. _

_ He didn’t see the shadow or hear the loud screeching of the metal as it fell over him. _

_ Bucky did, however, hear himself screaming as it crushed him. _

 

* * *

 

 

Howard was trying,  _ very hard _ , to keep a straight face as Detective Romanoff stared him down.

“What do you mean by that, Mr. Stark?” She asked, her head tilting slightly and her face remaining as composed as ever. She was a looker, if Howard could say so himself. Nice face, full lips, and red hair like he had never seen before. But she was  _ terrifying _ .

“Hear me out,” Howard began, “I’m no saint, detective.”

She snorted, raising a brow.

Bristling a bit, Howard ignored her, “Obie had never seemed like he was mad or anything, I just don’t get it. He can’t want money, he has made nearly as much as I have the last few years.”

“Mr. Stark,” the detective began, her hands smoothing out her notes before her, “this isn’t a baseless accusation, which should be clear since you’re in the position that you are. We have proof that the man that broke into your home was, in fact, there to  _ kill you _ . We also have reason to believe that your associate is the one that hired him.”

“I know why the guy was there, but I don’t know why Obadiah Stane would want me dead.” Howard snapped, his eyes narrowing a bit as he looked to the notes, “I made him into the man that he is now. I took him from being fresh out of college to being one of the heads of an international company. Why would he want me--”

“Howard,” she said, “he wants  _ everything _ .” The detective's green eyes met his once again but her expression softened a little. “You have slowly started to focus on others thing in the company and when you began shutting down certain projects, you cut off some of his income.” She paused, looking through a folder on her desk before handing him a piece of paper. “This is from your accounting department. It seems that he slipped up a bit in the last quarter because here,” she pointed to a certain part of accounts receivable in the weapons department, “isn’t equal with this.” Her finger moved to the total of the area, “It doesn’t add up here and it surely doesn’t add up to the main total. From your records, a lot of money that is in that seems to come from nowhere and then disappear.”

Howard took the paper and looked it over before sitting back, the paper and his hands in his lap.

“You didn’t know,” she said softly, “and you can’t control him when he’s been using you and your company this entire time.”

The man could only nod.

The detective regarded him for a second before taking the paper back and, once she had placed the paper back in the folder, grabbed a pen, “Where are you staying now?”

Howard told her the address and explained his roommate, well,  _ roommates _ .

“You’ve never met the other guy?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “he’s on active duty right now and I guess he won’t be home for another couple months.”

The red head nodded, jotting down notes and the names of the men that lived there. “This James, is he going to be deployed soon?”

Howard shook his head, “He’s home for good, supposedly.”

“I see,” she said. “Do you know why?”

He could only shrug, “Injury, maybe? Maybe he just didn’t re-enlist.”

“Alright,” she said setting her pen down and looked to him, “We’re done here for today, Mr. Stark.”

“Just like that?” He smirked, “Here I thought we were really flowing, detective.”

“We really weren’t,” she deadpanned, “but, I have other cases that I need to check up on too. If anything happens, you have my number. I’ll be around to you’re staying for the time being sometime in the next week or so to check it out and brief Mr. Barnes on what he needs to know about you and the case.”

“Yes ma’am,” Howard said with an enthusiastic nod.

When he began walking away, the woman’s voice rose a rit, “Don’t do anything stupid, Mr. Stark.”

The walk from the police station to the Bucky’s apartment was brisk.

His hand was taking the spare key from his pocket it no time but was surprised to find the door already unlocked. So, with a puzzled look, he opened the door to find Angie and Bucky sitting in the living room, a blood pressure cuff on Bucky’s arm and a stethoscope under Angie’s thumb.

Angie nodded a bit, removing the ear pieces, “It’s still high, but it’s not as bad as it was when I got here. You need to breathe, Jimmy, the medicine isn’t going to fix everything.”

Bucky nodded before looking to Howard, “Hey.”

“What’s going on?” Howard asked as he stepped in, closing the door. 

Bucky shrugged as Angie released the cuff from his arm before jotting down notes on a small notepad that she had on the coffee table.He looked at the other man and noticed how awful he looked. He was pale, dark circles around his eyes, and he just seemed out of it. One of the major factors that Howard could deduce from his appearance was Bucky’s hair: the veteran had a bit of an obsession about his hair, always making sure that it was in place. Yet there he sat, his hair going every which way and flattened to the back of his head.

“What time did you wake up?”

“Around nine-thirty,” Bucky responded, rubbing his face with his hand.

“What happened this time to make you wake up?”

Bucky’s demeanor changed a bit them. He seemed to shrink a bit, folding in on himself. “It was… the crash.” He almost seemed to whisper his response.

Angie observed him with a sad look before she nodded slightly and moved to jot down more notes. “Did you wake up right after the chopper went down?”

He simply nodded and looked away.

“You didn’t see the doctors this time?”

“Thank god I didn’t,” he released a breath.

The woman watched him for a moment, “I’m going to call Dr. Erskine, alright?”

Bucky could only nod.

Angie got up with her notes and excused herself to the kitchen, her cell phone already up to her ear and a hushed conversation beginning to ensue.

Howard looked to Bucky, a bit of concern on his face, “You alright, Buck?”

“No,” he looked to the other man, “but I’m better than I was.” He raised up his arm and show Howard a long, deep scar on his arm. “I got thrown out of a chopper on my last tour and it crushed my arm. Completely shattered the bones there. The trauma surgeon they had there, Collins, was able to save my arm but I couldn’t get the surgeries that I needed in the middle of a battlefield.” He lowered his arm and his head fell back a little, “So, they shipped me home. I spent almost a year, drugged up in the VA upstate.They put rods and screws into my bones and then the little fucking quack Zola decided to start messing with my medication.”

Howard frowned, “Messed with your medication?”

Bucky nodded, “He had me on some cocktail of medication that nearly put me in a coma. A nurse realized it one day when they had to shove a tube down my throat so I could breath because the pain medication was too high and shut my lungs down.”

“Did you sue them?” The arms dealer was pissed, to say the least. This man fought for his country just to come home and be used as a labrat for some doctor that thought they could play god. The fact that Bucky was sitting before him today was a miracle in itself and Howard knew that.

Bucky nodded slightly, “Yeah, but it doesn’t help much. Healthwise, I’m fine. My arm is better, but I don’t know what happened to the angel of death himself. He’s probably out in Cancun or something living the dream after he put me and whoever else through what he did.”

“How did they not investigate it further? You could have died!”

“I don’t know, Howard, but it’s done. I won, I got some of that little bastard’s money, and I have those nightmares. Angie is a nurse at my new doctor’s office and I guess she’s relaying the message about my meds.”

Howard nodded slightly, almost surprised about Angie’s almost secret life outside the diner. “What doctor is this?”

“Dr. Erskine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that one wasn't as fun and carefree as the last, huh?  
> We need some character building and explanations for what is to come. A plot for the plot-less, per se.
> 
> If you have an ideas you'd like to see, please let me know!


	4. The one with secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more to Angie than Howard initially thought.
> 
> Just a little additions to the last chapter that didn't quite seem to fit.

It was a slower night at the diner and for once, Howard was able to stop and chat with Angie.

“I didn’t know you were a nurse,” he started with a light smile.

She grinned, “It’s like a secret identity!”

“From knowing you, I would have thought you would have been trying to become a movie star or model here in New York City.”

“I wanted to at first,” she with a look of nostalgia. “But, that was a while ago. After barely scraping by for a while, before I met Peggy, I decided to take my parents up on letting them pay for some schooling for me.”

Howard nodded with understanding, “I get it, I came from rags to riches like some of them out there. But you should be making well more than enough to just have one job on a nurses’ pay.”

“Not as an LPN,” she corrected. “I make like,” she made a face and made a little weighing motion with her hands, “like twenty to twenty-one bucks an hours there.”

“It’s different pays?”

“Pay differentials, honey.”

“I see.”

She nodded with a smile, “My parents could really only pay for community college, so I just got my LPN since it took less time and I could always go back if I wanted to be an RN or even get my bachelors degree.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?” Howard asked.

She nodded, “I think I do want to go in and work in a hospital. I love Dr. Erskine, he’s teaching me so much, but I just want more to do and have more jobs to do than paperwork and prescription refills for angry old ladies.”

The man could only nod with an impressed look, “Well there really is more than meets the eyes with you, Angie.” He nodded a bit, “I remember working on my first degree a while back and realizing that I wanted to do more than what that was preparing me to do. You see, in engineering, you do glorified skut with a bachelor’s degree, but the more education you get, the more you do. I was designing so much more than I ever thought and that’s when I realized, ‘hey, I can do this too.’ And the rest is history.”

“You were an engineer?” She asked, her brows rising.

“Um,” he paused for a moment. The thought  _foot in mouth, Howard, **foot in mouth**_ resonated in his mind and he tried to come up with a cover story. Angie didn’t know, luckily, but he nearly blew his own cover. He didn’t think Detective Hot-Tamale would be cool with this one. “Yeah, but I got fired. Big scandal. I was the low man on the totem pole, so I got the boot and the guy that really did it got away smelling like a rose.”

Angie’s mouth popped open, “For real?”

He nodded sadly.

“Well,” she began despite her brows still being slightly furrowed, “at least we have your back here!”

Howard smiled at that, “Thanks, Angie.”


End file.
